Fairfax banjo man is super 49ers fan

SAN FRANCISCO - The 49ers were trailing deep into the fourth quarter en route to another frustrating loss at Candlestick Park. Fans were restless.

Just then, 57-year-old Stacy Samuels of Fairfax walked down an aisle, carrying a banjo, a smile and a tune. He sported a scraggly beard and ponytail, a multicolored beanie cap and a sweat-soaked gold Super Niner shirt beneath a red cape. This was the only super hero 49ers' fans had seen all day. He started pickin' and they started grinnin'.

"At least somebody played good today," a glum 49ers fan quipped.

That is the aura of the man 49ers' fans know as Banjo Man. At a point when sulking 49ers' fans might have doused the intruder with warm beer or sharp insults, they welcomed and cheered for Samuels. He is beloved even on the days when his favorite team is not. He gives extra effort no matter what.

"The fans get it," Samuels said as he left behind last month's 49ers' 23-3 loss to the Seattle Seahawks along with the postgame garbage. "It's kind of a chore when you're 57 to walk up and down and yell and play hard. I play really hard. It's a chore but I keep doing it because the fans react so great."

Samuels is approaching his 25th year of playing the banjo while leading cheers at 49ers' home games. He has become as much a fixture at Candlestick Point as fog, wind and cold.

"Stacy's awesome. He's an icon," said 49ers' season ticket holder Geoff Green of Novato, who has missed only one home game in the past 21 years. "He epitomizes the quality of the die-hard fan, through thick and thin."

You can't miss Banjo Man. Samuels is a motley character dressed in a splashy outfit. He yells and sings with a burly voice and he constantly plays the happiest musical instrument on Earth. No wonder Samuels keeps showing up on television broadcasts of 49ers' games. He apparently is as photogenic as Joe Montana.

"NFL Films is always looking for those cutaway shots of the fans and he represents part of that color," said Santa Cruz resident Patrick Moore, a veteran cameraman for NFL Films. "He definitely represents San Francisco with his cape, his (T-shirt) logo, the banjo. It's an, 'Old Susanna, here we come,' kind of thing. He's coming around the mountain."

Samuels' game day begins when he parks his van near Candlestick Park at least two hours before kickoff, puts on his gear, then sticks out his thumb. He has a credential to get into home games free, but no parking pass, so he hitchhikes. He usually doesn't have to wait more than 10 minutes to get a ride.

"They give me the thumbs-up. They don't even know I'm hitchhiking," Samuels said. "It's like a mile walk. I do enough walking once I get there."

Once at the stadium, Samuels works the crowd and tailgate parties. He knows where to find the best food and most generous people. Banjo Man doesn't take tips, but he does take tri-tip. On this particular Sunday, he is offered steak and imported beer at one tailgate party, then grilled prawns at another, ribs at another and grapes at yet another. He has a five-course meal in his belly by the time he's encouraged to cut in line at the parking lot porta-potty. It's the only time all day that Samuels stands still.

All the while, it's evident 49ers fans adore him. Faces light up when they see Banjo Man. He greets them by yelling the phonetically correct "WER # 1" which is taped onto the face of his Mastertone instrument.

"That's become my trademark," Samuels said.

Actually, Samuels' best trademark is his whirly-bird beanie. He may get free food and free admittance at Candlestick, but he is quite an entrepreneur during the week. Samuels is president of 30-year-old Interstellar Propeller Inc. in Berkeley, which has sold more than 1.5 million beanies. His clients include Bill Gates, Shaquille O'Neal and Wavy Gravy.

Samuels' office in Berkeley also used to be his home until he could afford to move to Fairfax in 1991. The beanie business has made him a millionaire of sorts.

Samuels sells pure fun. His act invariably results in a photo ops. 49ers' fans continually stop him and ask to take a photo with him. One 49ers' fan, Tina Birkby, who was visiting from the United Kingdom, insisted Samuels pose with her after seeing him appear twice on TV during the season-opening game against Arizona on ESPN's Monday Night Football.

"If I charged a dollar a picture, I'd be really rich," Samuels said.

Banjo Man has become so famous that he can't go to a store in Marin County or a vacation overseas without being spotted.

"It's really been wonderful. Everywhere we go in the world, people recognize him," said Charlotte Samuels, Stacy's wife who usually tapes 49ers' home games for him to watch when he comes home. "If he ever dies, I should put, 'We saw you on TV' on his tombstone."

"I've played it more than anyone on Earth," Samuels said, "unless there's someone in a mental institution."

It works. When Samuels plays it during a game - whether the 49ers are ahead or behind - it prompts foot stomping and hand clapping.

"I amaze myself," Samuels said. "I can play so long, so hard."

Inevitably, a television camera or telephoto lens focuses on him. Video of Samuels can be viewed in the Pro Football Hall of Fame in Canton, Ohio.

However, sometimes Samuels is a victim of identity. He is confused with Krazy George Henderson, the balding, drum-beating cheerleader who takes credit for inventing The Wave - the popular fan-participation demonstration at sporting events. Samuels finally met Krazy George last year at a celebration to commemorate the 25th anniversary of The Wave.

"People, for 25 years, have been calling me Krazy George and I get all this credit," Samuels said. "And he said, 'Yeah, and people have been coming up to me asking, 'Where's your banjo?' I never thought it would circle around like that."

Samuels, though, does not have a Web site as Krazy George does, and he is not a paid entertainer, though Samuels did receive $600 recently appearing in Aptos at dedication ceremonies for Trevin Dilfer Memorial Field - named in honor of Trent Dilfer's late son.

"Krazy George is great but he's a mercenary cheerleader. He only goes where they pay him," Samuels said. "I wish that would have happened to me, so I've had this career as a volunteer, but it's worth it."

The fans of the 49ers must feel that way. A couple of them offered Samuels $20 just to pose with them for photos during the Seattle game and another fan gave Banjo Man a cup of beer when Samuels sat down in a vacant seat next to him. If the 49ers are incapable of a rally, Samuels will strum some up with his spirit. That's why he comes to games.

Samuels couldn't make it as a football player. He was cut from his team at San Francisco's Lowell High School in his youth. But, as a adult, Samuels is a star at 49ers games. He may dress the part but he's no weirdo.

"To me, the greatest weird thing is that it's been 25 years that I, a humbled 49ers fan who grew up in San Francisco loving the Niners, am now a part of 49ers history," Samuels said. "That's weird.